


Steak Dinner

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Series: Steak [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-20
Updated: 2000-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some eating, mostly talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steak Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> For Lynn. Thanks to L and K for beta-reading.

Every other Thursday, circumstances permitting, was steak dinner night. The bartender and waitstaff at the O'Malley's on the other edge of town now greeted Jack O'Neill with recognition, and he got seated at his preferred table.

Tonight he sat down without taking off his leather jacket and waited. If his waitress had looked a little more closely, she would have noticed he was newly shaved and showered and a little more nattier than usual. A little more polished. A little more nervous.

Jack opened the menu, although he always ordered the sirloin special, and scanned the words without reading them. It was ridiculous, he told himself. It was just their usual Thursday steak dinner, a ritual they'd started just after getting barred from the other O'Malley's in town. The first time they ventured to this one, Sam had been invited, too. She canceled at the last minute, but he and Daniel had gone ahead. Since then, it had become a tradition of sorts.

That's all it was now. Maybe he'd spent a little more time getting dressed, paid a little more attention to his grooming, but that didn't make it a date. Their odd conversation in the black pit last week notwithstanding, Jack was not dating Daniel Jackson, and this dinner was in no way a date.

Except, in a way, it was. This was their first dinner since the black pit, which they hadn't discussed at all since getting back to Earth. Jack thought he had caught Daniel stealing glances at him, but he couldn't be sure. And no way of knowing what those glances meant, anyway, was there? Jack had even wondered if their steak dinner ritual would be continued, since "steak dinner" had taken on a new meaning in that half-serious conversation which was kind of a confession but not really because none of it had been said, exactly, only inferred. As casually as he could, just before he left the base earlier that day, Jack had passed by Daniel's office, stopping in front of the open door to ask, "Steak night?" and Daniel had nodded without looking up.

So, it was kind of a date, because Jack wanted to figure out where they stood now. He closed the menu and set it aside, and ordered a shot of whiskey while he waited. But really, it wasn't a date, it was just an ordinary steak dinner. And Daniel might not even show up. That nod was pretty vague. He might not even have heard Jack's invitation. Invitation? No. Confirmation. It wasn't an invitation if it was an ongoing event, right?

Daniel arrived just after the whiskey shot. His hair was neatly combed, and Jack caught a whiff of aftershave. He wore a brown jacket, chinos, and a blue dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned. This was not his normal steak night outfit; Jack couldn't recall seeing Daniel in that blue shirt before. He wondered if Daniel had chosen it because he knew how good he looked in it. And if he had, did that make it a date?

"Hello," Daniel said, still standing by the table as if expecting Jack to send him away.

"Hi."

Daniel hesitated a moment, sat down opposite Jack. He promptly opened his menu, even though he always ordered the rib-eye. Jack contemplated his empty shot glass while Daniel hid behind the menu. The waitress returned.

"Sirloin special, rare, pint of Sam Adams, and another one of these," Jack ordered, handing her his glass. Daniel looked up from his menu. The waitress gave him a predatory smile which both amused Jack and roused his jealousy. Jack cleared his throat to draw her attention away from Daniel, but Daniel was smiling back at her as he ordered his rib-eye and beer. The waitress took the menus and wine list away when she left. Now there was nothing to hide behind.

"So..." said Daniel.

"So."

The restaurant was busy, crowded, but the low, warm lighting kept the atmosphere intimate. The noise from the bar was muffled by the hum of other conversations at other tables.

Daniel looked around the restaurant, but his eyes were drawn back to Jack. He wanted some cue on how to proceed. Was it just another steak night? If it was, why had Jack bothered to shave and comb his hair?

"Aren't you going to take your jacket off?" Jack asked him.

"Aren't you going to take off yours?"

Jack stared at him for a moment. Who was going to move first? Daniel waited it out. Jack stood up and took off his jacket. His usual steak night clothes had been exchanged for a black rugby shirt and dark grey pants. Not too dressy, not too casual, but a step up from jeans and t-shirt. Daniel shrugged off his jacket and tried not to admire this new look too much.

They sat silently, very bad at avoiding each other's gaze. Daniel sat back and tried to relax. This was just steak night, like any other.

"Read any good books lately?" he asked as Jack simultaneously said, "Seen any good movies lately?"

Jack shook his head a little. Daniel said, "I've been pretty busy. You?"

"Oh, there was a movie I was going to take Teal'c to see, but haven't had the chance."

"Teal'c? You take Teal'c to movies?"

"You know Teal'c. Always bubbling over with curiosity."

Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked at him over the rim of his glasses. Jack gave a half-shrug. "Well, okay, there's a movie I wanted to see, and I don't like going alone. I thought Teal'c might go along for the ride, but he didn't seem too interested."

"Oh." Daniel nodded. "I see."

The drinks came. Daniel sipped his beer, set it down, ran his fingers along the side of the glass, making streaks in the condensation. "You could... ask me. You know, if you wanted to see a movie and couldn't get Teal'c to go."

"You go to movies?"

Daniel cocked his head. "Oh, sure. Sometimes. It makes a break from reading."

"Ah."

Daniel watched Jack down his whiskey shot, and wondered if that 'ah' was an I'll-keep-that-in-mind 'ah' or an all-you-do-is-read-you're-no-fun 'ah'. Or some other 'ah' from Jack's vocabulary. Conversation on steak night, while minimal because eating was more important, was never this difficult before. Daniel wasn't sure if this was a bad sign or not.

Jack pushed his empty glass to one side and sat forward. "I'll do that. Ask you, I mean. It's a shame to miss a good movie."

"Sure. I mean, yes. I mean, yes, it is." Daniel took a quick drink of beer.

They fell into silence. Jack rested one hand on the table and Daniel watched his fingers tapping for a while. When he looked up, Jack's eyes darted to someplace beyond Daniel's shoulder. Daniel watched Jack watch something else until Jack's gaze caught him. They both took a sip of beer.

"I read your report," Jack said.

Daniel almost choked on his beer. "Really?"

"No. Not really. But I looked at the table of contents and skimmed the stuff about the aliens."

"Oh." Daniel was momentarily disappointed, until he recalled that this was more than Jack usually did. "I still can't believe it was only twelve hours."

"Twelve hours?"

"The time we were in the trap. It seemed longer, didn't it?"

"Days," Jack said grimly.

"I've read some theories on time disassociation subjects feel when incarcerated. The trap may have heightened the effect because of whatever was used to make us feel tired and hopeless. It was a classic prison environment."

"More like a killing jar."

Daniel nodded. "The museum you mentioned. Of course, our record isn't much better than theirs."

"What do you mean?"

"Humans have captured representatives from different cultures for display and entertainment, have even stuffed them after they were dead to put in museums. Same thing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "The shame of your forebears."

"How do you mean?"

"Your anthropologist forebears. They were the ones rounding up all these different culture guys, weren't they?"

Daniel took a deep breath. "Yes, in some cases, but--"

"Yes. See, with the military, what you see is what you get. None of this pretending to be neutral and study someone when really you just want to see him stuffed and in a display case back home."

"Oh, no. You just come in and shoot people, right?"

Jack gave him a dark look and rested his forearms on the table. Daniel didn't expect him to rise to such obvious bait. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about work," Jack said.

"We weren't." At Jack's challenging glare, Daniel added, "Not specifically."

This time the ensuing silence was broken by the arrival of the steaks.

The food made Jack feel better. He relaxed, relished his sirloin, and enjoyed watching Daniel eat. Daniel wasn't normally a slow eater, but he had a characteristic way of lingering over his steak, making precise cuts and savoring each bite, satisfaction radiating from him. Seeing Daniel so focused on this simple pleasure made Jack's meal taste that much better.

The beer helped his mood, as well. A third shot of whiskey was a sore temptation, but Jack let it pass. He finished his steak before Daniel, and sat back, recalling past steak dinners known and loved, which led to thoughts of the most delicious way to grill fresh fish, a subject dear to his heart. He was telling Daniel the pros and cons of peppercorn, when Daniel took a rare break from eating and said, "I still owe you a fishing trip."

Warm with good food, beer, and Daniel's company, Jack smiled. "I haven't forgotten." Daniel looked at him and smiled back.

They didn't normally stick around long after finishing the steaks, but tonight Daniel ordered coffee, and Jack didn't feel in any rush to go home, either. The food had made Daniel relax, as well, and he'd started telling Jack about a book he was reading on 'the socialization of savages'. He got very animated about it, but Jack couldn't tell if this was because he agreed or disagreed, because he'd stopped listening early on. Jack was just enjoying the moment: Daniel, in that very flattering blue shirt, being Daniel -- brilliant, and concerned, and telling him stuff even though he knew Jack wasn't paying strict attention. It was the act of telling, not the words, that counted.

Daniel was winding down. The hand gestures slacked off, and Daniel sat back to deliver his final argument. Jack tuned in to listen to this part, so he could form an appropriate response.

"... but what can you expect from nineteenth-century British imperialists, anyway?" Daniel finished up.

"Yeah," Jack said in absolute agreement to whatever it was he was agreeing with.

Daniel tilted his head and his lips quirked in an almost-smile. Daniel leaned forward and said quietly, silkily,"You haven't heard a word I've said." Unless Jack was hallucinating, this was Daniel flirting. Jack leaned forward, too, and said just as silkily, "No, I haven't."

He definitely wasn't hallucinating, because Daniel didn't show disappointment or frustration. His almost-smile became a genuine, very warm smile, and he said, "Then I'll have to tell you again, from the beginning."

Their elbows were almost touching. There was maybe an inch of table between them. Jack closed the distance and their elbows met. "You'll have to do that," he said.

Daniel stared into Jack's eyes for a long time, until he was certain he wasn't misreading the signs. Two elbows brushing together wasn't the most sensual or overt action, but somehow with Jack, it was intimate all the same. Just as Jack not listening to him was strangely more intimate than if he had. But even if he had wildly misinterpreted those clues, the look in Jack's eyes answered any doubts. Now it was just a question of...

No, actually, now it was about a million questions. Was this insane? Was this serious? Was Jack serious? If this led somewhere else, where was that somewhere? How would it affect their working relationship? Their friendship? Wasn't it too much of a risk? Wasn't this about the stupidest gamble they could make?

Jack was asking the same questions. Daniel could tell by the way that look faded, and he felt numbed seeing it vanish. The real world intruded. The lights got brighter, the restaurant got noisier. The check was paid, his coffee cup was empty. They stood up at the same time, put on their jackets, left. Steak night was over.

Outside in the parking lot, Jack paused, jiggling his keys in his hand. Daniel stopped close but not too close, and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Jack glanced over. "This... tonight wasn't a date, was it?"

Daniel's eyebrows lifted. "No, no. Just steak night, wasn't it?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Just steak night. Yeah." He started to walk away, turned back and tossed his keys into the air, catching them deftly with one hand. "So. Two weeks from now, yeah?"

Daniel smiled. "You betcha."

Jack smiled and winked. "Two weeks."

Daniel watched him walk away, returned Jack's final wave, sighed and headed home alone. Two weeks wasn't very long to wait.

(the end)


End file.
